Blurred Reality
by carissima
Summary: Hyde keeps having these dreams about a certain raven-haired little pixie. Yeah, I said pixie!
1. Dreams

**AN: This fic is sooo old, but someone asked me to upload it, so voila!**

_Sweat covered their bodies, glistening in the ray of moonlight that illuminated their clandestine union. In the timeless struggle for mutual domination and submission, skin glided against skin. He saw her shadow rise, briefly winning the battle for power; holding him captive with a heavily lidded look of lust and desire._

Her swaying body made him forget everything but the slickness of their bodies and the heat of her touch. Hands flitted across his chest, his arms, his face, and he nearly lost the tight control he held over his body. Their bodies generated a heat that drove all sense from their minds and engulfed their senses. No memories existed of their past; all that mattered was satisfying the craving for pleasure that had reached an unbearable intensity with each passing day and each passing moment that they spent together.

Their eyes held as the pace quickened. As the climax took her, she turned her face and shut her eyes, and he trembled with the pain of trying to hold back until she turned around to face him. The moonlight revealed a tremulous smile upon her face, and he held back no longer. He shuddered, falling onto her, their bodies clinging to each other as they tried to drag air back into their lungs …

He bolted upright, breathing heavily. The damn dream was getting more detailed. It didn't just occur at night, either. He'd slept a dreamless sleep the first night, the night they'd briefly connected. The second night had been a replay of the kiss. The third night had been a taste of what might have followed the kiss. And since he'd had a glimpse at that taste, it had haunted his dreams until he thought he'd go mad with pure, overpowering lust. He knew that in reality, all they'd shared was one kiss. One simple, hot, passionate, wild kiss.

From that kiss, an unwanted obsession that had grown out of control, he had no idea how to cure it. He'd had dreams about girls before. Girls had featured in most of his dreams since he'd realized that girls were very interesting, in certain ways. Those dreams had always been about faceless girls, and resembled bad skin flicks or strip shows. This one was more like a blend of fantasy and reality. This one had a very recognizable face. This one was so vivid that he could taste her skin and he could feel her moving against him. And this one replayed itself every night.

He could no longer concentrate on anything when she walked into the room. He kept his eyes on the television and his mouth shut. No one noticed anything odd about his behavior because he'd built an entire life out of saying nothing.

She definitely hadn't noticed anything different. She was completely unaware that she kept him up every night, and that she entered his dreams when he finally closed his eyes and succumbed to her. She didn't notice that he rarely said anything when she was in the room. She didn't care that he only held circles when she wasn't around. She didn't find his behavior strange, and she no longer bothered him with stupid comments or silly questions. In fact, she left him alone, which only made his dreams more frequent; more detailed. It was the details that were killing him. The movement of her hair, the brush of her fingers against his skin, her lips over his … it was more than he could bear.

_Her hair caressed his chest as her lips brushed his skin. Hands buried within the silky strands, feeling them fall around his fingers. He stroked and twisted as she stroked and twisted, and he lost himself in the gentle torture of her naïve touch. Sighs filled the room as touch triggered touch and the fulfillment of anticipated longing drew near._

Consciousness interrupted his dreams and a quick glance around the darkened room revealed that he was alone, as always. How could a mere kiss elicit such a reaction from his unconscious? That one kiss had been his undoing.

It was past time for his daily cold shower. The problem was, as soon as he stepped under the spray of water, he'd close his eyes and she'd come to him again.

_Rivulets of water cascaded down her body. Giving into temptation, he reached for her, and began to trail the water with his tongue. The agony of ecstasy took control, creating a writhing, trembling mass within his arms. She arched her back, fighting to get closer yet fighting to be free of the need that burned within her soul. His battle was over, and had been over since she'd stepped into his embrace. His fingers traveled down her body, retracing the steps of his mouth, and he reached lower …,_

He stepped out of the shower, shaking his head clear of the evocative images that racked his thoughts. He needed to do something, anything, to make him forget her. He needed to be somewhere where they served alcohol. He needed to obliterate her from his mind, and drinking was a time-honored tradition in his family of how to cope with the crap life threw their way.


	2. Crimson

_He could see her silhouette framed in the doorway, instantly feeling the intensity of her gaze, sensing the need emanating from her in heated waves. Their eyes locked, he held out his hand and she stepped forward without hesitation and slipped her hand into his. Their need for one another had transcended desire, transcended want, transcended sexual pleasure. He wanted to consume her with the fire that burned inside of him for her; brand her soul as she had branded his, but he couldn't speak, fearing words would break the spell that he was under. As unwanted as the obsession had been, he'd crumble without it, so he scorched her with the intensity of his need through his eyes._

His hands clasped her waist, bringing her as close to his body as he could. His blistering look travelled the length of her body, as his touch scalded her skin. As his hands ran over her nightie to quickly remove it from her burning body, a slight moan escaped from him, his vision grew hazy and he blindly reached for her …

He threw off the covers and stood up, trying to get his breathing back to a normal rate. Running his fingers through his hair, he swore realizing his hands were trembling. He hoped it was because of all the beer he'd put away last night, but he knew better than to lie to himself. The beer had helped, at first, but then Forman had started talking about him and Donna. Kelso had told some funny story about the girl he'd been with the night before and Fez had started whining about his needs. Oh God, he was turning into Fez.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and his Zeppelin tee, and yanked on his boots, thinking it best if he got out of the house before anyone made it to the basement. He opened his door and cursed as he heard the TV. He swore blind when he realised that it was her watching the TV quietly, and that she was alone. He tried to escape, but he couldn't. It was torture to be around her, but he needed it. He wanted it. He liked it.

She didn't try to talk to him nor did he say a word. When she began to fidget on the couch he caught sight of a crimson bra strap …

_His hands found her and pulled her closer. He fingered the crimson lace of her bra, before enclosing her within his arms to unhook the clasp. She stepped away from him and let it fall, watching him intently as his eyes narrowed with desire. Fear stopped him from reaching for her again, but she had no such apprehension. Gently, she took his hands and put them around her; pushing her exposed body against his. Within the circle of his arms she tugged until they were face to face, skin to skin, heart to heart. Kisses feathered his face and neck, each one offering redemption and promising a heaven that he daren't believe in. He breathed in her scent, enfolding her in his arms, drawing strength from her. He stroked her back, moving up and down her spine, feeling her begin to tremble against him. He lowered his head and captured her lips in a sweet caress, which instantly deepened into a ravaged kiss. His hands moved swiftly over her body, wanting to touch all of her, wanting to imprint his touch on her skin. Her nails clawed down his back, making him cry out before imprisoning her lips with his. She stroked where she'd previously torn at his skin, smoothing it while attacking his lips with hers …_

His head snapped up as he realised that everyone had joined them while he'd been lost in another dream. One so real, it was almost like a memory instead of a dream. Hoping for a distraction, he pulled out a stash from his pocket and gestured to everyone, who quickly encircled the table. Although she sat directly opposite of him, he hoped it would distract his mind if only for a few hours. He'd just smoke, forget, and laugh, and not spend one moment thinking about her, and him, together.

His plan worked for a while as he found himself laughing at Forman, who'd sprayed whipped cream in his mouth, then tried to kiss Donna, who'd moved off his lap, and he'd fallen on the floor in a giggling heap. Looking around the circle, he accidentally caught her eye for the first time since that night that he'd first dreamt of her. He sobered immediately, as he tried to look away, but he was caught in the intensity of her steady gaze. Then she blinked and looked at Fez, laughing at something he'd said, and he was lost. He must have imagined that brief moment, for she'd looked at him almost exactly how she'd looked at him last night in his dream, when she'd been a shadow in his doorway. This was a new development in his obsession; he'd never projected his dreams into reality like that before. He needed another alcohol-induced haze, and he needed it fast.


	3. Words

_He heard her calling his name from within his dreams. Opening his eyes, he expected to see only the dark loneliness of his shabby room, yet she was there, standing by his cot looking down at him with a light in her eyes. He tried to read the light, but her eyes became hooded as she realised he was no longer asleep. Waiting for her to move, his eyes ravished her body, cloaked within a silky white wisp of lingerie. His hungry gaze rested upon her face, taking in the pale beauty of her face, framed by soft, dark hair that he yearned to touch.. He watched her eyes, seeing the doubt she tried to hide, seeing the desire she couldn't hide, and seeing the need that burned inside her soul, a blaze that she wasn't even aware of, so couldn't hide. He lifted his blanket in an invitation that she willingly accepted._

Feeling her body slide against his sent a scorching trail along his skin. He cupped her face, seeking a balm for his blistered emotions within her kiss. Her lips promised a sweet absolution and he'd become addicted. His hands ran over her body, dispensing with the barrier between his skin and hers, allowing him free access to her satiny skin.

His light touch ignited shivers down her spine and goosebumps along her skin. His fingers stroked over her stomach, her hips, her back; she could feel the tremor of need within him, yet he held back, making her feel cherished and safe. His arms promised power, yet she knew no fear. His look promised intense ferocity, yet she knew no apprehension. His body promised primitive savagery, yet she knew no panic. She knew only the ecstasy of his arms, the soul-baring nature of his gaze, and the euphoria of their destined union.

She sighed his name ...

He woke, yet his eyes remained tightly shut. Perhaps if he waited long enough, she'd come to him again. He knew it was futile, though. The new development had taken him by surprise, she'd never uttered his name before, or spoken a single word in his dreams. He'd thought it best, since her voice often grated on him, yet in his dream her voice had been as soft as the breeze, as sweet as nectar, as ... he shook his head. It was one thing for his dreams to affect his every conscious, and unconscious, thought, yet when he started spouting poetic crap? That was another problem altogether. He had to speak to her, just resume normal conversation with her, he'd try anything to rid himself of this growing obsession. Perhaps talking to her would exorcise her from his thoughts.

He spoke to her, yet it solved nothing. He would not utter her name, he was afraid of what his voice would reveal. He would not try to burn her, because he was afraid his wit would abandon him and reveal secrets best hidden. Seeing her eyes focus on him, hearing her voice directed at him, they filled voids within him that he had not known existed. Her gaze seemed to search his soul, to ask questions, to find answers to questions she had not asked. She'd made him feel vulnerable, so he'd abruptly left to seek the solitude of his room.

_She sashayed towards him with a seductive smile teasing her lips. He reached towards her, catching her body and bringing her into the circle of his arms. She smiled up at him, aching for the touch of his lips. When he finally lowered his head and covered her lips with his own, she felt the warmth of safety and protection engulf her soul, and she clung to him, craving his kiss. He silently offered her all she wanted and all she needed. She did not question how he knew her innermost desires, when even she did not know. She gave him all she could, communicating only through her lips and her body, offering her fragile heart, yet she sensed he did not understand her most sacred gift. Still, she would keep offering it to him, knowing that when he was ready, he would accept, and he would protect it as no-one had before._

Sensing a change within her, he ended their kiss and gazed down into her eyes. The dim beam of moonlight from his small window shone on her, creating a glowing haze around her body, giving her an ethereal appearance. She looked so vulnerable, looking up at him through her eyelashes and wrapping her arms around herself, that he forgot everything but the need to gather her close and keep her safe from the world ...

He sprang up from his cot and rubbed his hand across his eyes. The dreams were getting worse. This morning she'd spoken to him in his dream, and this afternoon he'd put his arms around her, wanting to protect her ... It was crazy. He'd never wanted to protect anyone in his life, yet he was trying to comfort her, and it hadn't even been the real her, but a vision of her that existed only in his head. It was insane, he was dreaming himself, yet he was completely unlike himself, he was dreaming her, yet she was completely unlike herself, and yet, the dreams were so real, it was like he really was tasting her lips, touching her skin, hearing her voice ...


	4. Details, Baby, Details

_Her gaze flickered over his lean body, shivers running down her spine in mere anticipation of the promise in his eyes. She smiled shyly as his eyes devoured her in turn, his slight smile lighting a fire deep within her. Sighing, she felt his hand grasp hers, pulling her closer to the warmth of his broad chest. She rested her head against his body, listening to the steady beat of his heart and feeling a peacefulness seep into her body that she'd never found before. She knew every inch of him, the feel of his fingers felt on her skin, how his unruly hair felt between her fingers, the softness of his lips upon hers. Theirs was a dance as old as time, and they were in perfect synchrony, each listening to the rhythm that raged inside. She could not explain their connection, nor did she dare to try, for fear it might break the spell that encapsulated them both._

Pressing small kisses against his chest, she felt his heart beat faster and she placed her hand on his chest, a smile teasing at her lips. His mouth lifted in a slight smile, making her heart race in turn, and she reached up to finally claim his lips. She thought his kiss would quench the inferno that consumed her, but his lips held a passion that could not and would not be suppressed. Somehow, his kiss held both passion and gentleness, and it was his gentleness she craved tonight. Breaking away while still touching her lips to his, she slanted her mouth so she could nibble along his lower lip, feeling him shudder in response. His hands stroked her bare skin, tracing an invisible line down her back. He reached that sensitive spot that he could find blindfolded, that made her moan and arch towards him, and he lightly caressed her, smiling that half-smile that made her melt, as she arched towards him.

A low moan escaped her mouth ...

She sat up in bed and rubbed her hands across her eyes. What was happening to her? Was she going crazy, or was she finally being logical, sensible and mature? Her body had begun to ache for him, yet the ache couldn't be satisfied. All because of that damn kiss!

Her dreams about it had developed into this insane creation, and she didn't know how to stop it. The truth was she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted it to stop. All she knew was the depth of emotion that she felt when she saw him, the ache in her heart when she kissed him and the wrench in her stomach when she left him. That goddamned kiss!

She'd had a hard time coming to terms with what she was feeling. She'd spent years disliking him, then gradually she'd started to laugh at some of his jokes. Then, she was crying on his shoulder, asking him to take her to Prom. She had that photograph of them on her bedside table, and she looked at it every night. At first, just to admire her dress and how pretty she looked. Then gradually, her eyes had started drifting over to the handsome man standing next to her, until every night she barely registered herself as being in the picture. Then came the ridiculous stalking, where she'd followed him everywhere, trying everything to get his attention, even changing to be like the girls he normally went with. She cringed, just thinking about it. But that kiss had opened her eyes to a lot of things. Like realisation of how embarrassing her behaviour had been, and the depth of emotion that she was capable of feeling. Everything that came before that kiss had been a mirage of real emotion.

She had to talk to him. Tonight.

_He woke to find her lying next to him, watching him whilst a smile teased her lips. He slipped his arm under her and brought her closer to him. She giggled silently as her cold fingers rested on his warm waist and he flinched. He bent down and nipped a sensitive spot on her neck in retaliation, laughing when he saw a small bruise starting to form. Taking her cold hands, he covered them with his own larger, warmer hands and heard her sigh with content. He let go of her, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, before trailing his fingers down her cheek. Cupping her face, he leaned forward and kissed her softly, waiting for her to dictate the pace of their time together. He felt her tentativeness, and he fought to keep his desire under control, for the time being. He concentrated on the feel of her skin, the smooth silky contours of her body holding him mesmerised. His ministrations to her body were creating waves of pleasure that rocked her to her soul, and he felt her caution give way to unadulterated passion. Capturing her lips with his, he proceeded to intensify her feelings by deepening the kiss and bringing her to the brink of explosion ..._

He struggled to wake up, having spent most of the night tossing and turning after that dream, which had scared him, with it's details, the easiness with which they came together and the intimacy they seemed to share. He'd finally fallen asleep just as the sun was rising, but he could hear them in the basement, and he knew from experience that he'd get no more sleep while they were around. He dressed quickly and followed the noise to find everyone crowded around Jackie. He sat in his chair, trying to look uninterested.

"C'mon Jackie, just tell us who it is!" Donna laughed.

"It's no-one," Jackie said, annoyed.

His interest piqued, he turned to face them. "What's going on?"

"Jackie's wearing a turtleneck," Kelso whined.

He frowned. "So?"

"Girls only wear turtlenecks when they've got hickeys! Everyone knows that, Hyde," Fez explained.

He stopped breathing for a second, then shook his head, knowing it was a ridiculous thought.

"I was cold! I don't have any hickeys!" Jackie said, more annoyed.

"If you don't have a hickey, why don't you show us your neck to prove it?" Eric asked.

The others chorused their approval.

"I'm going home. I've got better things to do than listen to this." Jackie almost made it to the door before Fez tackled her to the floor.

"Fez! Get off me! What are you doing?" Jackie screamed.

"Quick, Donna, look at her neck!" Fez giggled.

Donna laughed as she reached down and pulled down the neck of Jackie's sweater to reveal a small hickey.

Everyone started laughing and started guessing who could have given Jackie the hickey, while Kelso sulked.

Jackie slowly raised her eyes, more afraid than she'd ever been in her life, to find him staring at her incredulously.


	5. Truth

Trembling with fear, Jackie picked herself off the floor and ran out of the basement. He ignored everyone questioning what was wrong with her, taking a step towards the basement door. He saw Eric aim a bemused look in his direction and he swore internally, moving back to sit in his chair, aware that even if he did go after her, he had no idea what to say. That scene kept replaying in his mind, the look on her face when she realised Donna had revealed her hickey, the eon it took for her head to rise, and most importantly, the look she shot straight at him. He could see the shock, the fear, the desire that flashed through her eyes in that millisecond. He didn't know what scared him more, the mark on her neck in the exact place that he'd dreamed himself nipping her skin, or the fact that he could recognise what desire looked like in her eyes. It was the same look he saw every night in his dreams, and it opened up a reality that he wasn't sure he wanted to face.

The day passed slowly. He jumped every time he heard a door slam, hoping she would appear and he could dismiss his fear, but it was never her. He finally gave up his vigil by the TV and went to his room, climbed into his cot and lay there, willing sleep to claim him. Yet the minutes ticked past. The minutes slid into hours. He got up to get a glass of water to pass the time, yet as he walked back towards his room, he saw her standing in his doorway. He sighed, whether in relief or confusion, he wasn't yet sure. She was wearing a white silky nightdress that he immediately recognised, even from behind. She slowly turned towards him, keeping her head down, avoiding his eyes. He moved slowly, stopping inches away from her. He put his finger under her chin and gently tilted her face until her eyes met his. He saw confusion, doubt and shame in her eyes, and he tried to speak, but no words came to him. He had a hundred questions, yet he couldn't ask a single one.

He lifted his arms and pulled her towards him. Her eyes clouded in bewilderment, but she moved into his embrace. He felt her rest her head against his chest, and he knew she'd been there before, he just hadn't realised it. Those emotions he'd been feeling during the dreams, they were somehow real. He was standing here, with her in his arms, and it felt right, it felt good, it felt inevitable. She fit in his arms like she'd been made for the single purpose of being his to hold. He couldn't find the words to express the turmoil he felt inside, so he pushed them to one side. For whatever reason, she was here, her body pressed against his, finding comfort and safety in his arms. He lifted one hand to stroke her hair and felt her sigh against his chest. Peace settled over him as it had in his dreams. He pulled back and saw a startled expression shadow her face. He held out his hand for her to take and he led her towards the cot. She climbed in and he followed. She curled up against the wall and he lay on his back, arms folded behind his head. Seconds later he reached out his arm to bring her into an embrace.

She was utterly bewildered by his actions, she'd come here expecting a shouting match, a blazing argument, a dismissal from his world, yet he hadn't said a word, merely held her and asked nothing of her. She wiggled her body, getting comfortable in the crook of his arm. She was finally able to sleep in his bed, in his arms, without having to worry about getting up before he woke up to find his dreams were no dream, but a reality. She'd dreamed of this moment, feeling this close to him, but she hadn't imagined she could feel so strongly and deeply about him when they hadn't spoken a single word to each other, and he'd only just absorbed the discovery that what he'd thought was only in his head was actually real. But somehow, here they were. Complete opposites who shared something unspoken, that was stronger than any promise or assurance either could give. Tomorrow would arrive soon enough, and with it would come answers to the questions that she feared. But for tonight, he was hers, she was his, and tomorrow didn't exist.


	6. Reality

He awoke to the beauty of her face. Last night he hadn't been able to turn her away, and the harsh light of day had changed nothing. Questions circled like a whirlpool within him and he was fighting to keep from drowning in their depths. It was as if the truth was within reaching distance, if he could only stretch out his hand and take it, yet the truth was surrounded in a dense fog that he was happy to lose himself in, as long as she was lost with him, holding onto him, helping him to find his way. How could it be that he felt this way about her? How had she bewitched him in his dreams? Or was it in his reality? He'd lost all sense of what was real and what was only his imagination, but he found himself unconcerned about the details. He wanted to find out whether the girl in his arms was real, or whether that was only a mirage too. The girl he'd sparred with for years couldn't be who he longed to hold and protect, yet if that girl was also this girl, the girl he'd worshipped in his dreams, then he had to cherish her, he could imagine doing nothing else. He didn't know which girl he wanted her to be. Both scared him, both haunted his dreams and touched his soul. The cold light of day was beginning to clear the fog around truth, and he was finding it harder and harder to reconcile the girl he knew to the girl he desired. He had to wake her and face that truth before he drove himself crazy.

He stroked her cheek, feeling the protective urge pull at him for what he presumed would be the last time. He felt her stirring, and he buried his fingers in her soft hair. He watched her eyes flutter open, seeing confusion ebb away to be replaced by doubt and fear. She lay there, trapped by the intensity of his gaze, unable to look away. Moving forward slowly, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head, and then motioned for her to talk.

With anyone else, she would open her mouth and she would hear her own voice saying some ridiculous shallow and cruel remark. But with him she had no barriers left. She'd willingly opened herself up to him, taken advantage of him, and now he deserved the truth. The truth that she could barely come to terms with herself, but he'd been more understanding than she deserved, so she could at least give him what he wanted.

Shame forced her to lower her head. "I've never felt that way before," she began, her voice trembling. "I'd dreamt about it for so long, but I never thought it would happen. Then you kissed me and all I'd dreamt about vanished in a second, because what I'd been dreaming of wasn't even close to what you made me feel. It scared me, so I ran away before you could push me away."

She lifted her head, wanting to look into his eyes so he could see the truth of her words.

"I couldn't run far. That night you were in my dreams again, but this time you were real, not some fantasy guy in my head, someone to take my mind off of the past, the way you had been before. You were as real in that dream as you are now. I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't, every night you'd visit me, and I'd lose myself in you, every night I'd give away a little piece of myself until you had every bit of me, and every night I woke up with the most intense need for you. The real you. So I crept over here one night after I'd woken up to talk to you without anyone else around. To get you out of my system."

He reached up and wiped the tear away from her soft cheek. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"I crept in here, terrified that Red would catch me, or that you'd wake up and laugh in my face, but you were asleep. I couldn't stop myself from reaching out and touching your face, knowing that I'd never be able to do it again. I knew that we could never be together, because of who we are and what we are, but for that second, I pretended that we could forget our pasts. I pretended that you were just the guy who made me feel so special, and I was the girl who could look after you and be there for you. Then you smiled in your sleep. At me. I can count on one finger the amount of times you've smiled at me. So I got braver. I bent down to kiss you. Just one kiss. But you grabbed hold of me and kissed me back. I was so scared. I thought you'd woken up, but you kept your eyes shut. The next day, you barely looked at me. I realised that you didn't remember what had happened, so I got bolder. I came back to your room that night, and the same thing happened again. Every night you'd be so attentive to me, seemingly adoring, and it was so unexpected. I had no idea that you could be like that, that you seduced both my body and my heart. It was addictive, being closer to you than I'd ever dreamed possible, knowing that you were opening up to me without all the pretence or the barriers, yet I knew that you were starting to remember bits of our time together. I knew I'd have to tell you, but I kept putting it off. Then you saw the mark you'd left on my neck, and I knew you'd figured it out."

She dragged her gaze away from his mesmerising eyes. "I know what I did was unforgivable, but I don't regret it. I don't know why you haven't thrown me out yet, so I'm going to leave before you do. I won't say a word to anyone about us. I know you probably hate me, so I won't come back to the basement. I won't bother you again. I'm sorry. I'm just … I'm so sorry."

She slipped on her shoes and crept out of his room. The door closed quietly behind her and left him in silence, in darkness, and in confusion.


	7. Loneliness

_Lips caressed her neck, sending shivers cascading down her body. Lifting her hips, she strained to get closer to feel the warmth he offered in his arms. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she sighed in pleasure as he ran his hand along her thigh. She reached up to capture his mouth with her own, writhing in pleasure as he began his expert assault upon her senses. Within moments she was gasping with need, while his experienced hands caressed and stroked her heated skin. Becoming one entity, attuned to one another as if they'd been loving each other through the centuries, they moved in unison, feeling the exclusive crashing waves of ecstasy wrack their bodies before collapsing in exhaustion. Minutes passed before she felt the touch of his hand against her cheek. She smiled tenderly as she opened her eyes …_

… to the bleak darkness of her room. Loneliness enveloped her as she felt the cold chill of winter seeping through the room. Sighing, she poked her toe out from under the cover and covered her squeal at the sharp shock of iciness in the air. Throwing the covers off, she ran to her window and closed it, inwardly shouting at her father for not fixing the lock yet, even though she'd complained about it last week. She ran back to the warmth of her covers, jumping the last few feet and giggling as she managed to stop herself from bouncing straight off the other side. Snuggling under the covers, she shivered as she reached for Fluffykins, who'd fallen to the floor during her acrobatics on the bed. Closing her eyes as she cuddled the unicorn for comfort, she groaned as she heard the window fly open again. Deciding against facing the cold again, her eyes flew open as she heard a soft thud followed by a muffled curse and the window slamming shut. She stared at him as her heart raced, initially from shock, and then from fear as to why he'd just climbed into her room at three a.m.

He pulled himself up from the sprawled position he held beneath her window and turned, a sheepish look on his face. A half-smile played on her lips as realisation dawned on her that he'd just climbed up a tree and entered a room he'd probably never dreamt of entering before her confession earlier. He scowled at her, before grabbing hold of her dressing table chair and setting it beside her bed. He sat down and leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. He stared at his hands as he hit one hand against another. She stayed silent, trying to guess why he'd come to see her. Although she was longing to ask him, she bit her lip. She bit it really hard.

He eventually looked up towards her, and sat back in the chair. He then spent several minutes just looking at her, and still she waited. He closed his eyes for a minute, and then he got up and moved the chair back to her dressing table. She stared in shock; he wasn't just going to leave without saying anything was he? Well, if he wanted to be all aloof and cool, then she'd be aloof and cool too. She turned her nose up slightly and fixed a cool stare at him.

He turned and walked back to her bed. He climbed on top of the bed, lifting the covers, and lay next to her. They stayed on their backs, staring at the ceiling. She started drumming her fingers lightly against the covers, bemused by his behaviour. She'd been absolutely positive that he'd want nothing more to do with her, after her deception and the fact that she was, well, herself, yet he was lying next to her, in her room, in the early hours of the morning. Hearing him sigh, she fought the urge to turn and ask him what he was doing just as she felt his arm nudge her head. She looked over at him, puzzled, until he sighed again and grabbed her, moving her so he could put his arm around her and so that she was curled up next to him. She held her breath, not sure that this wasn't another of her little fantasies. Feeling a little brave, her hand crept over his chest, resting over his heart. When he didn't laugh or tell her to get off, she got a little braver, moving her leg so it was entangled between his.

Feeling him stroking her hair softly, she smiled as the loneliness ebbed away and sleep consumed her.


	8. Finally

The discovery that routine could be fun was a shock to him. He'd never really had a routine, either at home or at school. Mrs Forman had come close to enforcing one, but he just couldn't keep to it. Maybe enforcement had been the problem. He'd stumbled onto this routine, without plan or desire, yet here he was, climbing through her window and stumbling into her room. Looking up from his vantage point on the floor, he saw her, sitting on the bed, looking over at him with humour lighting her eyes. He never failed to fall, and she never failed to find it amusing.

He pulled himself up with a wry glance in her direction, before the second part of their routine began. A fierce battle involving staring, glaring and a thin veil of patience commenced, in which neither one of them would make the first move, but he was confident because he always won. Each day she'd last a little longer, but she never failed to give in. With a sigh followed by a giggle, her lithe body would sashay towards him, her eyes sultry and her hips mesmerising, and he'd take one step forward. That one step was his concession that he wanted her, and every time it caused her heart to skip a beat before it began thumping against her breast.

Then he'd bend his head, she'd lift hers and they'd meet in a fusion of desire. Familiar feelings crept up on him, feelings that had surprised him that first night, but he'd eventually come to terms with the inevitability of them surfacing. He no longer wondered at how soft her skin was, he just stroked her face while his mouth ravished hers. He no longer questioned how her hair was so shiny and smooth; he merely threaded his fingers through it, burrowing into it so he could bring her closer to him. He no longer noticed how tiny and breakable she seemed, for he'd experienced first hand how tough and flexible she was. He simply locked her within his arms and steered her towards the bed, a feat he could now accomplish with his eyes shut. The first time he'd tried it, they'd collapsed in a heap on her bedroom floor, five feet away from the bed. After she'd stopped laughing and he'd stopped growling, they forwent the bed and let their passion take over on the floor. He'd since practised a few times with his eyes open, but the motion had become so familiar to him that he could take her on a spin of the room and still end up on the bed, all with his eyes closed.

Luckily, he wasn't the spinning type.

The penultimate part of their routine began with him lowering her onto the bed. They kissed, they caressed, and she giggled softly as he nibbled the sensitive area along her nape. She sighed as she felt his hand wandering down her body. Their routine was the same every day, yet it felt new and different at the same time. Every time she saw his curly hair appear through her window, it felt like it was the first time. Every time she felt his hand caressing her skin, it felt like the first time.

He was so good at throwing her senses into confusion. She had no chance to figure out whether they were crazy, carrying what had started as fantasy into reality, because the minute they were in the same room, he was kissing her and causing her head to spin. Then he started touching her, and all rational thought flew out of the window. She couldn't think when he slipped his hand under her shirt and started to circle her tummy with his fingers. Then when he moved his hand upwards and circled her breast with his fingers, she lost all control over her mental functions. She lost herself in the pleasure of his playful, teasing touch.

Two months of their routine hadn't cooled their ardour for each other. Lying in his arms, breathing heavily and trying to cool her fevered body, she turned slightly and kissed his cheek, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against her skin. This was both the best and worst part of her day. She felt deliriously happy, lying with him, yet she knew that there was only one step left of their routine. He would get up, kiss her goodbye, and climb out of the window. She'd see him later that day in the basement, but she couldn't touch him. She'd have to wait another day to be granted that pleasure. Sighing, she pulled his arm tighter around her, and pretended for a few moments that they were a normal couple, who did normal couple things, and who didn't have to hide their relationship.

She woke up to find him still lying next to her. Confused, she tried to wake him up, but he merely grunted and pulled her over him. She laughed as she tapped his chest with her small hands. He opened one eye, growled a good morning at her, before rolling over and pinning her against the bed. Grinning wickedly, he bent and nipped her lip before moving his hands up her body and tickling her. He watched her laughing and wriggling before he stopped, under the threat of retaliation. They dressed quickly, both trying to sneak peaks at each other before their bodies were fully clothed. He casually offered to give her a lift to the basement, since they'd broken with routine this once. She tried to sound nonchalant as she agreed, but ruined whatever attempt she'd made by skipping to the car and kissing him soundly on the lips before they pulled away.

She thought he'd drop her off before he reached the Formans', but he pulled into the driveway. She hopped out of the car, and walked over to him. He smirked at her, before grabbing her hand and walking towards the basement door. Surprised, she figured he must be certain that no-one else was around. They walked down the steps towards the door, and he kissed her hair before opening the door. Hand in hand, he led her through the door. To her shock, everyone was in the basement, watching Bewitched. Still he held her hand. He led her over to his chair, where he sat and guided her round to sit on his lap. Giggling, she leant against his body.

Four shocked, high pitched voices screamed in unison. She ignored them and snuggled closer into his body.

She drifted back into reality. Sighing, she turned to see if he'd left already. Except she wasn't in her bed. She was sitting in the basement. On his lap. With his hands on her legs. And their friends staring at them.

Jackie turned and grinned at Hyde, who stared back at her, unperturbed. She leant forward and kissed his cheek, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard. Sighing in contentment, she leaned back against him and watched Samantha twitch her nose, ignoring the huffing and screeching of her friends, as she felt Hyde's arms tighten imperceptibly around her.


End file.
